


Myths and Legends

by tehkittykat



Series: Tales of the Je'daii [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 10:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tehkittykat/pseuds/tehkittykat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Rey and Luke kill some time in a cantina waiting for Luke's mystery contact. Wild stories ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Myths and Legends

"I heard those Jedi killers really messed him up. Has to wear a life support suit, prolly be dead if he didn't know all that crazy magic stuff. Disappeared because he can't face the General lookin' like Darth Vader all over again."

The words were low, close to an indistinct mutter, easy to lose in the patchwork gabble of voices that filled the cantina. If she hadn't been practicing sense-sharpening, Rey wouldn't have heard it at all.

_ "I _ heard it was the other way around. Skywalker went  _ nuts. _ Put 'em all in those creepy masks."

"Skywalker? You  _ kiddin' _ me? I  _ saw  _ him once. Just some jumped-up dirt farmer who probably got that laser sword off a dead Jedi. He can  _ fly, _ but  _ c'mon." _

"Lightsaber's a  _ plasma  _ weapon, laser brain."

Warm leather, worn soft with age, brushed Rey's bare arm, and she started, losing the thread of the conversation. It was just Luke, who quirked a sideways smile at her and handed over a delicate bottle of something blue and fizzy, bubbles sparkling around the marble that rattled in its neck. He had another, half-drunk, so Rey tried a sip, humming to herself at the sweet. 

"Hear anything interesting?" Luke said, eyes scanning the cantina even if his presence radiated relaxed contentment.

"Those pilots over there," she said softly, nudging him until he was looking in the right direction. "I think they're talking about you."

"So am I the saint who's going to restore the Republic this week, or do I eat Force-sensitive babies?" Luke said, laughing lowly at whatever he saw on her face.

"Luke! Be serious!" Rey hissed, earning a grin that glowed like a desert sunrise before he took off, weaving through the crowd on a not-quite beeline for where the pilots gathered. Their training bond shivered with  _ mischief, _ a silent invitation for her to come join the game, and with an aggravated sigh Rey followed. 

She was sure Luke already had half of a speech explaining what gossipping in cantinas had to do with the ways of the Force, one that would sound appropriately  _ mystical  _ and  _ profound. _

At least he'd saved her a seat.

If she didn't already have a line into his head, she had to admit that she wouldn't have been able to pick Luke out of the crowd. He'd worn the Jedi robes she found him in on Ach-To precisely  _ twice  _ since, preferring the practical leather and armorweave that any other lifelong spacer wore, and in darker browns and blacks besides. With his shaggy hair in a messy knot and a habitual grin, not to mention a terrible,  _ terrible  _ predilection for spouting absolute bantha  _ poodoo  _ at the drop of a hat, he was like any other fighter pilot gone somewhat to seed. If Chewbacca hadn't embraced him like a brother, if Luke hadn't gently taken her hand and walked her through guarding and shielding herself that first day, she might be inclined to  _ believe  _ the pilot about the dirt-farmer comment. 

"I heard," said one of the pilots, a Sullustan with a perpetually nervous air, "That Skywalker once broke up an entire slaving ring by himself. Heard from one of the girls he rescued-- smuggled in weapons an' went right up to the Hutt in charge. Lifted the slug  _ right up _ without touchin' him and said that he'd drop the slug just as easy when the Hutt tried to go for the detonator switch."

"Yeah right. Which Hutt?" the Rishii sitting next to him said, her fluting trill oozing sarcasm. 

"Neruna, I think."

"I hear he did for Jabba, too," said a Trandoshan on the other side of the table, near to Luke's elbow.

"Nah, that was the General," said yet another pilot, a human-looking woman with a bright tattoo across the bridge of her nose. There was something subtly different about her, though. Maybe one of the many cousin-species to humans?

_ I thought we were meeting our contact, _ Rey complained silently, covering the beginning of a frown with another sip of the bottle. The Jedi had been unusually tight-lipped about  _ who  _ they were supposed to be meeting, just repeating that their contact was  _ family  _ and that she was really,  _ really  _ going to like this person.

_ We are. Patience, _ Luke replied, leaning back in his chair with the air of a man planning to put down roots. The problem was, she was never really sure if he  _ meant  _ that or he was just messing with her. Or, worse,  _ both. _

"I heard Skywalker runs First Order blockades like they're nothing. For  _ free, _ if it's humanitarian supplies. Saved my cousin once-- she had Dantari Flu and woulda died otherwise," the Mirialan on Rey's left said, reverent, and Rey recognized the voice as the one who snottily corrected the others about the nature of lightsaber blades. She hoped he wouldn't recognize hers-- the long hilt of her double-bladed saber was  _ mostly  _ covered by the vest she was wearing, but it was a little hard to hide.

"I heard Skywalker  _ kriffed off," _ the Rishii said, contemptuous, "Ran to the Unknown Regions when his Jedi school got wiped off the map. Probably some crazed hermit by now."

"Are you kidding? The guy who killed the  _ Emperor  _ running off like that?" 

"I heard the Emperor sent  _ assassins  _ after him and the school. Like, he trained a bunch of little girls personally into crazy Force-ninjas," the tattooed woman said, her voice a low whisper. "Like hands of vengeance or something.  _ That's  _ why he left-- he didn't want anyone innocent to die if they tried to get him again."

"How's a dead guy going to send assassins after people?" the Rishii said.

_ "Ghosts," _ the woman said, completely serious. "They say the ghosts of the Jedi generals still haunt the last battlefields of the Clone Wars. Who's to say the Emperor couldn't haunt something?"

"I say you probably just hit your drink limit," the Sullustan said with a bubbling chuckle. 

"I heard," Luke said slowly, "That Skywalker ran off and started swoop racing under an assumed name.  _ Joel Lars. _ You'd think he'd pick a better name."

Rey almost snorted the bubbling drink through her nose.

_ Luke! _

_ What? That was last month, _ Luke projected, the thought silvery with laughter.

"That loser? Are you kidding me? No way it was Skywalker. No way," said another human, who had been mostly quiet, but that Rey recognized for the dirt-farmer crack earlier.  _ "Skywalker _ would never have hit the wall a hundred meters from the starting line. He'd have died of shame first."

Rey opened her mouth-- Luke had a number of  _ perfectly good _ reasons to hit that wall, most of them adding up to putting him in place to catch the First Order sniper aiming for the Khedive of Sluis Van. He'd practically given her a  _ heart attack _ with that stunt, but it meant that the Resistance got their contract with the shipyards there, and ships to go toe-to-toe with the First Order's fleet. 

_ It's part of the game, Rey, _ Luke told her, sipping his drink.  _ Compare wild stories, see what's circulating around the galaxy. Maybe scare up a spy or three if someone happens to know more than what you'd learn from the holonet. Give it long enough and you'll be able to play a round or seven with your  _ own  _ name. _

_ Why would I want to? _ Rey covered her confusion by finishing her drink, sighing when it was gone.

_ Because it's fun, _ Luke thought to her, before speaking aloud. "I thought you said he was a dirt-farmer. What's a dirt-farmer know about flying swoops?"

"A dirt-farmer who can  _ fly," _ the pilot said stoutly, twisting in his chair to show off a patch on his shoulder. It was a Resistance starbird, blue on a background of red, with nearly-illegible letters spelling out Griffin Squadron, unless Rey was mixing up letters again. "Say what you want about mystic powers and ghosts, but Skywalker is one  _ hell  _ of a pilot. Only had the privilege of flying with him once-- he left Rogue Squadron not long after I joined up with the Alliance."

"I'm surprised you're not with the Resistance, then," Luke said, his expression softening.

"Ain't any good in a cockpit with  _ these  _ eyes," he said, motioning to them. "I know the General would fix me up-- she's always done right by her people, but new combat-rated eyes'd cost as much as a  _ liter  _ of bacta. I think the kids she's worrying over now deserve it more'n an old codger like me."

Rey could see why the eyes were a problem after a few moments spent blinking at them. They were cybernetic replacements, and cheap too by the way the irises kept flicking open and shut. Or maybe it was the firmware? She nearly reached out with the Force to feel out the problem, but pulled back. Right.  _ Manners. _ Force powers were freaky, and anyway one just  _ didn't  _ mess with someone else's gear. Maybe she could  _ find  _ a way to ask him later-- anyone with that much glowing regard for General Organa was good people.

"A round for our old vet, then!" the tattooed woman said, laughing, and for a while things fell into the cheery chaos of drink orders being shouted overtop each other. Somehow, Rey ended up with another mysterious marble bottle, this one a light green that smelled faintly floral.

"I heard," said the Trandoshan with the air of someone imparting something juicy, "That Skywalker ain't really a  _ Skywalker. _ He's Darth Vader's kid."

"Aw, c'mon. We've been hearing  _ that  _ nonsense since Endor," the former Rebellion pilot said, easier now with the warm acceptance of the group curling in the Force.

"Yeah, but maybe it's true," the Mirialan said, "Jedi weren't supposed to marry. And who would General Skywalker have even hooked up with? He was up and down the front lines of the Clone Wars the whole time."

"There's more than just  _ Anakin  _ Skywalker in the family," the pilot said, shaking his head. "They're the fifth biggest trading clan for kriff's sake, and there was that kid, Ani Skywalker, from Tatooine. Only human to ever win a pod race. And it's where  _ Luke  _ Skywalker grew up."

"More like somebody paid off Sebulba to  _ throw  _ that one. Biggest upset pod racing history. I heard Jabba the Hutt made half his fortune on it," the Rishii said.

"Yeah, and look where it got Jabba."

"Next you're gonna tell us that Skywalker's as common a name as Solo. How does it go? Every third smuggler is a Solo? Every fourth batshit pilot is a Skywalker," the tattooed woman said, laughing.

"Depends on your definition of batshit," a new voice cut in, female and amused. Luke practically bounced to his feet to sweep the newcomer into a hug before Rey could get a good look at her. She was Togrutan, half a head taller than Luke, and Rey was fairly sure that she lifted the Jedi right off his feet with the force of her own hug.

"Come listen to wild stories with us!" Luke said, hooking his arm with hers.

"I thought you wanted me to meet your new partner in crime?" she said, smiling as she glanced around the gathering at the table. Rey couldn't tear her eyes away-- she had a deep sense of  _ presence, _ resilient and strong in the same way Luke was, which always reminded her of the mesquite bushes on Jakku. They  _ looked  _ fragile, but whenever some idiot tried to run them down with a speeder, it was the speeder that inevitably lost the contest.

"Right, right," Luke said, beckoning Rey over. "It's been an education, my friends."

"Come back sometime. Maybe you can top that Joel Lars poodoo," the Rishii said, waving. 

"I'll try," Luke said with a bow, before dragging both the Togrutan and Rey over to a booth in a quieter spot. He didn't stay long, though, abandoning them almost immediately to find them another round of drinks-- somewhere in the debate about Vader, Rey had finished hers again.

That was a name she could happily live the rest of her life without hearing again, shivering at her brief struggle with Kylo Ren, ages ago now. She felt the training bond pulse reassurance and worry, and she recentered herself. It was the past, and the past couldn't do anything to hurt her.

"Typical Luke," the Togrutan said wryly, resting her chin on her hands as she studied Rey. "Let me guess. He just twinkled at you a lot and didn't say who you were waiting here for."

"Pretty much," Rey said with a faint laugh. The Togrutan snorted and offered her hand.

"Ahsoka."

"Rey," she said, and tentatively shook it. It must have been the right gesture, because Ahsoka grinned at her. "So... how do you know Luke?"

"That is a wild story in itself," Ahsoka said thoughtfully, "But I guess since you're his padawan, you deserve to have  _ some  _ incriminating stories about your master..."

"Are you trying to  _ imply  _ something?" Luke said, sliding into the booth with the air of an affronted skatta.

_ "More _ incriminating stories, then," Ahsoka said with a laugh. "Only I can tell you these are  _ definitely  _ true."

**Author's Note:**

> With only mild apologies to Bruce Timm.
> 
> Happy May 4th everybody!


End file.
